Blood and Magic
by Lady Myotismon
Summary: AU After seeing the Cirque du Freak, Darren and Steve get strange letters inviting them to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where they meet great new friends and even greater new foes. Is Destiny on Darren's and Harry's side? Or on Voldemort's?
1. The Beginning

A/N: This is a plot idea I've had for a while. The prologue is short and pathetic, so you cannot judge my writing, but please review and tell me – do you think this is a good idea? I love constructive criticism. Also, I'll definitely take suggestions for future chapters. I plan on writing Darren's entire 7 years in Hogwarts.

* * *

**_Prologue_**

I suppose my story could start with my birth. But telling you too much about my birth might ruin the story for you. The best beginning for this story would be the night of the Cirque du Freak, a terrifying show I saw with my best friend Steve Leonard. Except that most of what I know about the freak show that night, I only know because of everything that happened afterward. So telling you too much about the Cirque du Freak would involve going out of chronological order. I don't want to go out of order or ruin the story; I want to present the story as it happened to me. So I suppose I could talk about the freak show, and how amazing it was, but the freak show doesn't really play a big role in my life until later. Considering all of this, I've decided the most logical place to begin my story would be the party.

Over the summer vacation before I turned twelve, the most popular girl in school threw a huge party. This was the biggest party of the year. Only the cool people were invited, and that somehow included me and Steve. This girl, Claire, had the perfect body because she was on the school soccer team (just like me!) and she got a lot of exercise. She had long red hair and lots of freckles, and I suppose I had a crush on her. The thing was, she must have liked me, too, or else she never would have invited me to her party. I never got much of a chance to ask her out or anything after the party, so I guess I'll never know what would have happened if we had dated. Anyway…

Claire lived in this massive house in a neighborhood bordered by a forest. It seemed like half of the school was there. I only saw Claire twice during her whole party, that's how many people were there. Parties back then were lighthearted fun. A group of people was playing spin the bottle in one corner, but most were dancing around the house or just talking. The music was so loud that I could barely hear Steve talking to me at my side. But no one did anything illegal. There was no alcohol or anything. Steve tried to convince me to let him bring some of his mom's liquor, but I absolutely refused. If there was alcohol, Steve would drink it, and when Steve was drunk he got really angry. Normally, Steve wouldn't have listened to me, but I guess something that night convinced him go with the flow. I wouldn't even taste alcohol until I was a lot older, but Steve, at 11 ½ was already abusing the stuff. Sometimes I wonder if the only reason I was friends with Steve was to make sure he didn't get himself killed.

Steve and I spent most of the party sitting on one of the couches, nibbling on snacks and talking. Neither of us really liked big parties like this, so we both felt uncomfortable. I had only gone because of my crush on Claire, I suppose. And I guess Steve only went because we were best friends. But we weren't having a lot of fun, and we were just about to call my parents to pick us up with the phone rang and the house turned into chaos. Apparently, Claire's older brother wrecked his car or something and her parents had to go pick him up. So Claire's parents kicked us all out of the house and it was pretty much like fifty people standing around in the near dark with nothing to do. Most people left, but Steve and I didn't have a ride until later, so we hung around.

Eventually someone suggested we go into the woods. The woods behind Claire's neighborhood was a place that kids would go into a lot of times just for dares and stuff. Kids joked around about club initiations, but seriously, staying any amount of time in those woods this late took a lot of guts. I had never been in there without Steve before. Steve was recklessly brave when it came to things like that. I think he was always trying to prove himself. And that night was no different. He was one of the first people to agree.

The party got a lot more fun once we went into the woods. We sat around using cell phones for lights and we told ghost stories. One girl had a flashlight in her purse, and the person holding the flashlight would tell a scary story and pass the flashlight on to the next person. This was definitely my kind of party game. I always got so into this stuff. It was a lot better than dancing. The only problem was that most of the stories were so predictable, and Steve would often call out the ending before the storyteller even got there. Others started getting pretty mad at him, and I was counseling the arguing and doing a poor job of it, when suddenly there was a noise.

Several people screamed. I think I might have, too.

"Cut it out!" someone yelled, assuming one of the group was trying to scare everyone else.

Steve had completely forgotten about the conflict. He ripped the flashlight out of some girl's hands and turned in circles, using the flashlight to search through the trees.

"I think we should go back to Claire's," someone said.

The noise happened again. It was the snapping of twigs mixed with the rustling of leaves. It was such a clichéd horror movie moment that I almost laughed, until Steve spotted the shadow in the darkness.

"Are there wolves in here?" Steve asked the group.

"I doubt it. The last time there was a wolf warning was over a year ago."

"Well, they did find that one lady's dog torn to shreds, didn't they?"

"That's just a rumor!"

"Wolves travel in packs."

"Yeah, we'd definitely know if a bunch of wolves was in here."

I could tell from the dark look on Steve's face that he didn't believe them. He watched the bushes carefully, until the shadows disappeared. I was relieved, thinking it was just some trick with the flashlight, but I knew immediately that I shouldn't feel so easy. The frown on Steve's face was definitely unmistakable – he was afraid. I was about to open my mouth and say something when a shape leaped from the trees.

To this day, I still don't know what the animal was. Perhaps it was some stray dog. It looked like a wolf to me, although, as someone pointed out, wolves travel in packs. But the creature looked so starved that I wouldn't be surprised if it had been a wolf rejected from its pack. Regardless, this thing jumped out of the woods and launched itself into the shrieking group.

"Stop!" I yelled, not realizing at the time how stupid it was for me to be giving commands to a wild animal.

But the weirdest thing happened… The animal _did _stop.

There was a sort of shimmering light around the animal, so that it glowed momentarily in the dark. The light froze the animal in mid-pounce. When the light disappeared, the animal fell into the leaves and sprawled there for a moment, as if trying to work out what had just happened to it. Then it got back to its feet and glared at me. I took a step backwards, and it took two steps forward. Its lips curled up into a snarl. I was so startled by whatever had just happened that I could not think of what to do next, but I was preparing to run.

"No!" several people cried, or "Stop!" but it had no affect.

The thing pounced again, and Steve yelled at the top of his lungs, "NO!"

The animal collapsed for a second time. I looked at Steve and just stared at him, horrified. I wanted to run away. I didn't want to know what was happening, and why it was happening. I was more scared about my power over the animal then the animal itself. Nothing like this had ever happened to me. But I didn't have much time to cry or worry, because then the animal was standing again, and advancing towards me.

"No! Stop! Sit! Down, boy! Don't come any closer!" I screamed, while Steve repeatedly commanded, "No!" The animal fell down, as though it was dead, but we kept yelling.

More of the kids around us scattered in the direction of the neighborhood. Eventually it was just me, Steve, and a small handful of people too hypnotized by the magic to move. Almost an hour later, animal control showed up and took the creature into their van, asking no questions. My voice was so hoarse that I could barely scream any longer. I was so afraid of myself and of what had just happened, that instead of talking to Steve about it, I walked home by myself, crying.


	2. Two Strange Letters

_**A/N:**_ Chapter 2, where the Harry Potter world finally gets involved. Also, I'm really looking for a beta reader – this story is pretty much a bunch of little bits and pieces written while I was bored in school, so a beta reader would probably help improve it a lot.

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About a month passed between this incident and the next one. During that month, I kept mostly to myself, and I spent a lot of time thinking about what had happened. One day, after I avoided Steve for a couple of weeks, he just showed up at my house with an arm full of comic books and dragged me outside. At first, we just sat on the grass talked about comics and had a typical conversation. But suddenly, he brought up the night of the party.

"Darren, I've been thinking about what happened," he said, as he lay on my lawn and stared up at the clouds, "Do you think we could join the Cirque du Freak?"

I was silent for a while as I imagined being on stage with the snake-boy, or trying to cut the bearded lady's super strong beard, or being able to interact with Madam Octa. Madam Octa had been my favorite act of the whole night. She was a massive trained spider that did incredible tricks. Despite that the Cirque du Freak had been months and months ago, I still found myself thinking about that spider really often. But then I thought about the giant Mr. Tall's terrifying black hole eyes and all of those Little People. The Little People were these short men, or maybe even children, that were hidden in the blue robes that they wore. They scared me a lot, because after the show one of them had jumped out at me and…

Ugh… I still get shivers down my spine. Anyways, I decided that even if we could join the Cirque du Freak, I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to. "Well, how do we know that it wasn't just a one time thing? I mean, nothing like that has ever happened to me before. Besides, we don't even know if we'll ever see the Cirque again. They do travel a lot, and they almost got caught here last time. I doubt they're going to come back here any time soon," I replied.

"I shouldn't have said anything to you, because you're always so pessimistic-"

"I am not pessimistic! I'm being _realistic_, Steve!" I protested.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Sure, realistic. Regardless, I've already thought about all of that. I've been going online for the past week or two now searching everywhere for any information on the Cirque du Freak. I haven't found anything at all, except for a couple of blogs mentioned it. One person said that they had seen the show twice, which means that it has to come back around eventually. Even if it does take a long time, we can get in some practice and be ready."

I knew that arguing with Steve would be pointless. He was in one of his determined moods, and it was probably best to let him work it out by himself. But time passed and Steve's determination did not. I would always find him searching the internet for any sort of schedule for the Cirque, and whenever he was around animals he always tried to recreate what had happened. Sometimes I tried to control animals, too, usually just with bugs and birds I saw around my house, but I couldn't make them do anything; I couldn't even make them pay attention to me. I gave up, but Steve didn't.

Towards the end of July, when we were beginning to dread the first day of school, the second incident happened. I was at Steve's house playing videogames in his living room one night. His mom was rarely home, and that night wasn't an exception. It was really dark outside, and we had just been watching a scary movie, so everything was really intense. I kept expecting to see a ghost out of the corner of my eye or something. Then, suddenly, we heard a ruffling sound outside followed by what sounded like something slamming into a wall.

I jumped, startled, and Steve laughed so hard at me that he was doubled over, slapping the coffee table in front of him.

"What is that noise?" I asked, bitter because of Steve's laughter.

"It's just a bird or something, probably hitting the glass door," Steve replied, and went around to the sliding glass back door. But there was no bird anywhere in his backyard. He seemed puzzled as he checked the windows, and finally made his way to check if anyone was at the door. But he stopped suddenly.

"What?" I said as I jumped to my feet and walked over to the front door, where he stood frozen, staring down at something at his feet. Two letters had been pushed through the mail slot; one was addressed to me and the other to Steve, both marked where there should have been an address:

Steve Leonard's Living Room

Steve fumbled to unlock the front door. We ran outside, searching for whoever delivered the letter. There was no one to be seen. Steve darted around the side of his house to the backyard and I followed. There was no one in the back either. But perched on the birdbath in the dying garden was a beautiful owl. It was drinking some of the filthy water and fluffing its feathers with its beak.

Steve was speechless. I managed a "Whoa…"

The owl lifted its head to look at us, but didn't fly away. It was eerie how it watched, as though it was judging us. I turned to Steve, but Steve had turned and was walking back towards the house.

"Steve! Where are you going?" I whispered.

Steve put a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet, and disappeared around the front of the house. He returned a minute later with the letters in one hand and some leftover chicken from dinner.

"Don't feed it!" I hissed, but Steve ignored me. He shoved the letters into my hands and ripped a shred of chicken from the end of one of the pieces he held. He threw the piece towards the owl, and the owl snapped it up in its beak.

I was grinning then, and dropped the letters into the grass to fight some chicken from Steve. We took turns feeding the owl, tossing chicken into the air for it to dive for. Then, suddenly, we heard the ruffling again, but magnified. I looked up into the sky to watch a flock of owls flying overhead, maybe a dozen of them, all going in the same direction. Our owl saw this too, and took off after the others.

"Wait!" I cried, "We have more chicken!"

But the owl didn't stop or wait. It completely ignored us.

Steve picked his letter off the ground and tore it open. He unfolded the parchment inside and read it. I was so absorbed in watching him that I didn't even think to open my own letter.

"This has got to be a joke," he finally said, and bent down to pick mine up, as though my envelope might hold the explanation for all that was happening.

As he opened mine, he gave me his to read, as though to prove how ridiculous this was.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Leonard,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

I looked up at Steve, who was staring down at my letter with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging opened. I wanted to ask if he thought this was real or not, but couldn't find the words. Instead, I unfolded the second piece of paper in the envelope.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Uniform:  
First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Course Books:  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk  
_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot  
_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling  
_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch  
_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore  
_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger  
_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander  
_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment:  
1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

For a moment, there was silence. But then suddenly Steve burst out laughing. He thrust my papers into my hands and walked back to the front door. I followed him inside, struggling not to drop any of the papers in my arms. I kicked the door shut behind me and dropped the parchment and envelopes on the coffee table. I sat down on the floor and tried to sort through all of the papers, putting them in their proper envelopes. Steve was still laughing on the couch behind me. For some reason, I couldn't laugh with him, because it felt too real to me.

Eventually, Steve stopped laughing. There was silence. All of the sudden, he said, "She is going to thrown me in an asylum, Darren."

"No, she isn't, Steve! You can just throw the letter away and your mom will never know," I said, and to prove it, I even walked over to the kitchen so that I could toss it in the trash. But Steve pounced after me, nearly knocking me to the floor.

"What if it's real?" he asked, ripping it from my hands.

We stared at each other for a long time. Neither of us knew what to say. This was the stupidest thing we had ever heard, but it was the only explanation as to how we managed to stop that creature in the woods.

"Okay… for one minute… let's assume this isn't bullshit…"

Steve nodded.

"Well… we show our parents the letter… and they decide what to do?" I suggested.

"I am _not _showing my mother that letter, Darren. She will think that I am crazy!" Steve snarled.

"Okay… How about I show my parents first?"

Steve agreed that was a better idea. He sat back, sinking into the cushions of the couch, and closed his eyes. He ended up falling asleep like that, but I stayed awake for at least an hour, rereading the letters over and over again, trying to find some proof or any hint as to whether or not it was a hoax. It seemed like a legitimate document, but who ever heard of a magic school? I ended up hiding the letters both in my sleepover bag and curling up on the couch beside Steve, where I fell asleep.


	3. Definitely Not A Hoax

_**A/N:**_ I decided to post chapter 3, too, since I have it finished. Chapter 4 is going to be really long, because it involves Diagon Alley and getting school supplies, I won't post it for a while because I'm still playing with the details. Once again, a beta reader would be appreciated.  
BTW: Struggling with the formatting For some reason my spaces don't show up normally, and these lines are really getting on my nerves.

Toto Nation: That's actually kind of what inspired this - on FictionAlley, a Harry Potter website I visit a lot, there is a section for crossovers, but Darren Shan wasn't among the crossovers at all. That kind of shocked me.

Ariana-blood-hehe: This story actually technically takes place after the last book, Sons of Destiny, which explains the whole life changing thing. If you haven't read it, I really suggest you do. I promise that in this story there won't be any real spoilers for the final book, but its sequels (Darren's later years at Hogwarts) will have spoilers... You have a long time to finish reading the series, though, seeing as I won't be getting to the sequels for a long time.

Lluvia: I definitely plan to keep writing this story. Mostly I just wanted to test the fandom a bit, and see reactions before I posted more.

Thanks so much for the reviews, guys!

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It took me a couple of days to get up the courage to ask my parents about the letters. I guess I believed in them, because my eventual motivation was how close the "owl by" date was. I approached my dad about it first. I couldn't think of how to phrase any questions, so I just told him I got something weird in the mail and showed my letter to him, and mentioned that Steve got one, too.

After reading through the entire letter, my father laughed. "You don't actually believe this, do you? There is no such thing as magic. This is just an elaborate hoax."

"Well…" I mumbled under my breath. I wanted him to say more, but I didn't want him to think I believed in this magic school or else I would look like an idiot.

At that point, I was really frustrated. I almost wanted to tell my dad about what happened at the party, but I knew that would probably make the situation worse. It was okay for my dad to laugh at the letters, but I couldn't stand it if he laughed directly at me for something I thought was serious. So I gave up with my dad. I laughed along with him and then went straight to my mom while I still had the spirit.

My mom laughed, too, and ruffled my hair. "Darren, you have an incredible imagination. Put it to something more useful."

I didn't have the heart to tell Steve what my parents said, because I knew he still believed that we had special powers and we could go to this magical school and join the Cirque du Freak.

* * *

That night, before going to bed, I decided to tell my sister Annie about the letters. She wandered into my bedroom and found the letters on her own while I was taking a shower. When I got back to my room and saw her trying to read them, I wasn't mad at all. In fact, I was kind of relieved. She is okay for a little sister, because she never snitches to my parents. I didn't want my parents to know that I took the letters seriously, but my sister would probably understand. So I explained everything to her, starting with the party and finishing with the owl in Steve's backyard. Afterwards, I read the letters aloud to her.

"Dear Mr. Shan, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31."

"Wow!" Annie said, and took the letters from my hand. She studied the writing for a while, eyes wide with astonishment. There was a period of silence during which she just stared at the parchment in her hands. "Well, you're going, right? The deadline is only in a couple of days! Have you sent an owl yet?"

"What? Am I supposed to hunt down some wild owl and trust him with my mail? Don't be ridiculous! There's no such thing as magic, and owls can't deliver mail!" I snapped, taking the letters from her. I almost immediately felt bad, because I had gotten mad at her even though I was thinking the same thing as she was.

"But how do you explain what happened to you, aside from magic? Darren, you have to go! You can't just pretend nothing happened. Besides, this is a school! Your education is at stake! You have to tell Mom and Dad!" Annie argued.

"I already did, Annie. Mom and Dad just laughed at me. I would probably laugh at someone, too, if they told me they believed they were a wizard," I replied, and fell back onto my bed. I stared up at the ceiling and clawed at the blankets, trying to vent some of my frustration through being violent towards my bed.

"Maybe if you showed them some of what you can do? Then they'd have to believe you, right?" Annie suggested.

I sat upright in bed and slapped the mattress enthusiastically. "That's it, Annie! I can just show them, can't I? I've done it once, and this place thinks I can do it again."  
I immediately decided to try and do some magic for my parents. I bolted out of the room, leaving Annie by herself, and took the stairs three at a time. My parents were in the living room watching the news. When I entered the room, catching my breath, they turned to look at me suspiciously.

"What are you up to, Darren?" my mom asked from her seat on the couch beside my father.

"Nothing," I lied, and wandered into the kitchen, where I pretended I was thirsty. I searched slowly through the cupboards, as though I couldn't find a cup even though there were dozens of cups in the shelves. When I picked a cup, my parents turned back towards the television. I walked to the fridge and filled up the cup, then drank slowly, making sure my parents were focused on the television. Then, with all of my might, I thought about making the television float. I stared at the television, willing it to levitate above its stand, imagining it a foot in the air. I said in my head, _Television, you WILL float. Levitate! Go up in the air! I know you can float! Float, damn it! _But nothing happened. Then I realized that maybe I was going to fast. Maybe I should do something easier. I focused on the television and imagined it turning off. And it did!

My dad got to his feet and dropped the remote onto the couch cushion. He stretched and yawned, and stared at me with my stupid victorious grin on my face. When he looked confused, I realized that I hadn't turned off the television with magic, but he had turned it off with the remote. My smile disappeared and I buried my face behind the glass of water so that he couldn't see my disappointment.

"Go to bed, Darren," he demanded.

I set the cup on the counter, leaving it there, and trudged up the stairs to my room. The stairs felt like a mountain to me as I climbed them. When I got to my room, Annie was gone, and the letters were folded neatly back into their envelopes and sitting on my bedside table. I opened the table's drawer and slid the envelopes into it. Then I dropped onto my bed and pulled the blankets all the way up to my chin. I was so devastated that I didn't even want my parents to come and say good night to me, so I just turned off the lights and went to sleep on my own.

* * *

The next morning, I slept in really late. I ended up waking up with half of the day gone. I dressed and went downstairs to make myself some food. My dad was at work, and I didn't know where my mom or Annie was. I decided to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I sat down to eat my food, and I was barely half way through my sandwich and glass of milk when the doorbell rang.

Annie rushed downstairs from her bedroom to answer the door, despite how many times my mom and dad had told her not to answer the door. I abandoned my sandwich and milk on the table to help her with the door. We fumbled with the locks for a while before I finally managed to open the door. Annie immediately let out a shrill shriek and darted back up the stairs. I wanted to follow her, but I was petrified and speechless.

Standing before me was the shortest old man I had ever seen. He wore a confused expression and strange clothes. "You must be Darren Shan!" he said with a smile, and shook my hand enthusiastically. "My name is Filius Flitwick. You can call me Professor Flitwick, because hopefully I will be teaching you Charms at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry if this meeting goes well. I believe I just spoke to your friend Steve…"

"Hogwarts? So you left those letters at Steve's house!" I cried.

The Professor Flitwick man laughed. "Me? Of course not! The owls left all of those letters!"

"All? You mean there was more than one?" I wondered.

"Certainly. The school sent out several letters to your house, and when we hadn't heard back the headmaster sent me out to speak with your family personally. He assumed there would be some problems. This happens quite frequently, actually. It seems to be difficult for Muggles to believe in magic, Merlin knows why…"

I stared at him, mouth gaping. Suddenly, I could hear my sister whimpering and footsteps coming down stairs. My mom was walking Annie back towards the door, but obviously wasn't expecting to see this Flitwick character when she got to the bottom of the stairs. She gasped, covered her mouth with her hand, and Annie ducked behind her as though she was a human shield.

"Who are you?" my mother screamed, trying to comfort Annie with gentle pats on the back.

"My name is Filius Flitwick. I teach Charms at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is precisely what I am here to talk with you about. Do you mind if I come in?" Flitwick said. He waited for my mom to answer before stepping inside and carefully shutting the front door behind him.

My mom ran her hand through her hair and massaged her temples before sending Annie back upstairs and walking me and Flitwick to the kitchen, where she offered us some tea.

"Oh, no, allow me," Flitwick said with a smile, and pulled a long, thin piece of wood from his belt. He waved it earnestly and suddenly our cupboard flung open and our tea kettle floated over towards the sink. The sink turned on by itself, the kettle filled with water, and then floated over to the stove. After the tea kettle was settled on the stove, he sat down at the kitchen table across from my mother and I. "I believe you have been receiving letters from Hogwarts? Am I correct?"

I looked up at my mother as I told him, "I got one letter, while I was at Steve's house… I showed you, mom, remember?"

My mother's head dropped into her hands. "Yes, I remember. You got about a hundred more that your father and I never showed you. We thought it was some joke…"

"I assure you it was not a joke," Flitwick said, and waved the bit of wood again to make three tea cups and saucers float down from the cupboards and arranged themselves in front of us.

"Is that a magic wand?" I asked, and I suddenly wanted to reach out and grab it. There seemed to be so much I could do with it. It was kind of enchanting.

"Yes, it is my wand, and you will get one, too," Flitwick said, then looked towards my mother, "If you decide to let him attend the school?"

"But when I did magic, I didn't have a wand at all," I said.

"Wandless magic is quite common in children who haven't learned to control themselves yet. Mrs. Shan, I hate to sound threatening, but if Darren does not attend some sort of magic school, his inner magic could grow quite out of hand," Flitwick said, still looking at my mother.

My mom sighed and finally met Flitwick's eyes. "What do you people want with my family? Why can't you leave us alone? My son is normal and can't do magic!" she snarled.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, Mrs. Shan. I am just doing my job. But I assure you your son can do magic, or else I wouldn't be here. I realize how hard this must be for you, but you need to take your son into consideration. I doubt he wants to live his life knowing he can do these things but doesn't know how to do them properly," Flitwick replied, just as the kettle started whistling. He waved his wand and the kettle flew to the table and served us. "Do you see what I am doing? I am doing magic, Mrs. Shan. And if your son attends the school, he will be able to, as well. I have been working at Hogwarts for many decades, and I assure you it will do Darren good."

I went to grab my cup of tea but my mother stopped me. "Darren, go check on Annie," she grumbled, pushing the cup out of my hands and waving over her shoulder towards the stairs.

I knew there was no point in arguing with her, so I left my tea and for a second time I left my sandwich and went upstairs. In her room, Annie was laying on her bed with her face buried into her pillows. I sat on the end of the bed and poked her in the back. "Annie, get up," I sighed.

She didn't sit up, but she turned her head so that she could look up at me out of the corner of her eye. "Who was that man?"

"I don't know, but why did you get so upset?" I asked.

"He's not just a small person, Darren… There's something wrong with him… he's so small, like a doll. That's not normal! He isn't just some dwarf man…" Annie replied, and shuddered.

I nodded. I still think she definitely overreacted, but I wasn't in the mood to argue. I wanted to know what was going on downstairs, and whether this stranger would be able to convince my mom to let me go to Hogwarts. I was surprised that she seemed so accepting of Flitwick's magic. She must have gotten so many letters from owls that she expected it.

I spent a long time with Annie, but we didn't talk a lot. Both of us were thinking. I wanted to be called back downstairs. I wanted to have a say in my future. Eventually, I couldn't stand it any more. I found a cordless phone, which I used to call Steve.

Mrs. Leonard answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Leonard. Is Steve there?"

There was an unnerving pause. "Fine," she eventually said, and then there was a long silence. A very long silence. I almost hung up. But then Steve's voice said, "Hello?"

"Hi, Steve," I said, not really sure if I wanted to mention the man in my kitchen or if he would first.

"Darren! I was just about to call you! This … miniature man came to my house, he said he was from that school, Hogwarts. He spoke to my mother all about it… I get to go! Darren… do you know what this means?" He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper. There was something strange about the way he spoke; he was so emotional, as though he might have even been crying, or had cried about the subject before. "For an entire school year, I wouldn't have to see my mother, Darren… Almost a full year, I don't have to worry about her getting drunk or coming home with men… I don't even have to see her." He stopped, and I heard something like a whimper escape his lips. I wanted to tell him that the Flitwick man was at my house, but I didn't want to interrupt him. Steve rarely showed any emotion at all, so I figured that it was important that I just listen to him for the moment. "Apparently this school…. It happens over seven years and then you graduate, and you're a wizard. Seven years…and I only have to see her over the summer." He took a deep, quivering breath, and I could tell that he definitely was crying now, although he was trying his hardest to hide it. After a while, when I hadn't said anything, he asked me, "Are you still there?"

"Yes," I uttered quietly. I suddenly felt so terrible. I couldn't imagine hating my mother so much that I would be excited about leaving her. Suddenly I understood a lot about Steve that I never did before. We had been friends almost our entire lives, but I had never really realized how bad it truly was between him and his mother. "Steve, he's at my house, too. I think I'll be able to go, too…"

There was a pause, but I could hear some movement on the other end and then Mrs. Leonard's voice, but I couldn't pick out what she said. "That's great, Darren. I'm going to go, now…" Steve mumbled.

I was kind of pissed that Steve wasn't as excited about me going to Hogwarts with him as he was about getting away from his mom. But I was also glad that Steve considered me a good enough friend to get emotional around me. Suddenly, I heard my mom calling me from downstairs. "Okay, Steve. Bye."

Steve hung up first, without saying another word to me. I hit the off button and threw the phone against my bed. I glared at it, and felt my stomach churn. This would be possibly the most important moment of my life. My mother and this strange midget man would be determining my future. I got up and went downstairs. My mom looked up at me, and I could tell she was stressed.

"You can go, Darren," my mom said with a forced smile.

For a moment, I looked from her to Flitwick, who was sitting propped up on a pile of old phone books in a chair so that he could reach his cup of tea on the table. He was grinning at me over the rim of his cup, which was almost bigger than his entire head.

"Really?" I muttered, somewhat shocked. I wasn't entirely sure if I was happy with the news. Before talking to Steve, I had been thrilled about learning to use this new power that I was told to be magic. But now, the thought of going to a school where I couldn't see my family and the only person I would know would be Steve… well, I actually dreaded it.

Flitwick waved his wand, which had been sitting on the table. A pad of paper and a pen shot across the room and landed on the table. He picked up the pen, half as long as his body, and wrote something on the paper, occasionally pausing to think.

"In order to get into the Wizarding World, you'll need a wizard," Flitwick said, and smiled up at me as he handed me the paper. "Those are some instructions. Someone, if not me, then another professor from Hogwarts, will meet you at the time I wrote down at the address I wrote down, which is a pub called The Leaky Cauldron. Whoever is there will assist you in buying your school supplies. You'll have to convert your Muggle money to our money, and perhaps set up a bank account."

"Muggle?" I questioned him. He had said the word several times before, but I had been a little preoccupied with more important questions to ask.

"Of course! It means a non-magical person," he replied, then quickly turned to my mother and told her, "It isn't a derogatory term at all, Mrs. Shan, I assure you."

She nodded and smiled.

Flitwick finished his tea and, with his wand, made his cup and saucer fly over to the sink and wash themselves. Then, pocketing his wand, he climbed down the stack of phone books and off the chair. "Darren, you'll enjoy Hogwarts. You will, I am certain of it. If you have ever felt different, you will be at home here. This will be an adventure for you."

"Thank you," I mumbled, because I couldn't think of anything more appropriate to say.

And with a loud sound like corn popping, the tiny man disappeared.

"Mom…" I muttered, unable to shake off my astonishment. A miniature person had just convinced my mother that magic existed and that I could be a wizard, and then had completely disappeared in my kitchen. He had also made tea and cleaned his dirty dishes without leaving his seat at my table.

My mother smiled weakly. "Darren… you'd better wash the dishes like that when you come home over the summer," she said as she stood up and approached me. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug that almost hurt. "I'm worried about you…"

"Me, too mom," I said, and hugged her back.


	4. Diagon Alley

**A/N:** This chapter is the longest so far, and will probably be the longest. There was just so much stuff… none of it was really particularly entertaining, but it's necessary. Even though this isn't the best chapter, it'll start getting loads better from this point. Sorry for the very long delay. I have a bad habit of stopping in the middle of a fic. It's my New Year's resolution to start finishing what I start. I was motivated to write more of this after seeing the movie Walk Hard starring John C. Reilly, who is supposed to be playing Mr. Crepsley in the Cirque du Freak movie. :)

* * *

The next few days passed way too slowly. It felt like some sort of dream. I still did all the normal stuff like doing chores and hanging out with my friends, but everything felt different, somehow. As if this was the last time I'd be doing them as a normal kid, because after this year, I wouldn't be normal – I'd be a _wizard_.

Steve started looking up lots of information on wizards and magic. He'd drag me to the library with him whenever I wasn't busy, and he'd make me read through dozens of books on the subject. We tried to find copies of our required school books, but the librarian had never even heard of them, so we settled on stuff that seemed mostly fictional. Normally, I would have been antsy. I love to read, but during the summer I always want to be outside playing soccer or swimming. But I was so curious about this world that I was going to enter that I had no problem sitting with Steve, reading and taking notes as if it weren't summer holiday at all and I had a school report due tomorrow. And instead of our normal horror movies or superhero comics, he'd go looking for movies about wizards to rent, or comics about magic. It became an obsession of his.

I tried to balance my time with Steve out with time with my family. I knew I'd miss them when I left for school, and they seemed to feel the same way. Every night we were having family dinners, and I tried to get everyone to play board games or card games, just so that we'd spend time together. I didn't even mind when Annie asked me to play with her dolls or color with her. It almost felt as though I was saying goodbye forever.

On the last day of July, my dad woke me up early in the morning. We were going to the Leaky Cauldron. I got dressed and ate breakfast quickly, then had a fight with my dad over whether or not I could bring the camera. I wanted to remember all of this and take pictures of every place we went to and every person we met, but my dad wouldn't let me. When I got into the car, I was in a bad mood, but by the time we picked up Steve from his house I was filled with excitement again. The whole ride to London we talked about how we imagined this place to be, and speculated on what strange person or creature would be our guide. I hoped it would be a vampire or a werewolf, but Steve said he didn't think that vampires and werewolves would be on good terms with wizards. He figured the person we met would look totally normal, but would have some awesome power, like shape shifting or controlling the weather. I laughed and said, "They're wizards, not X-men!" But Steve got angry at me and said it made more sense than my suggestion, which I suppose it did.

We were both wrong.

When we got to the Leaky Cauldron, the people looked mostly normal, so I was disappointed. Many of them were ugly as sin, but didn't look very much like vampires or werewolves at all. We got strange looks as we studied the pub and all the faces in it. But then we heard a voice –

"Are yeh Darren Shan an' Steve Leonard?"

A man across the room stood up and Steve, my dad, and I gawked. He was huge! Steve and I glanced at each other and smiled – we were both thinking the same thing. The leader at the Cirque du Freak had been a man named Mr. Tall who towered over me, and still would have even if I had stood on Steve's shoulders. Although the man standing before us was a lot hairier and more wild-looking than Mr. Tall, they could even be from the same race! I was suddenly bursting with hope that maybe, not only would we learn tricks like the performers from the Cirque du Freak, but we might meet more of their kind, too!

My dad collected himself before Steve and I did. He nodded and held out a hand. When the gigantic man took it in his own, my dad's whole arm was practically lost in the massive palm. As soon as they shook, everyone in the pub stopped staring and went back to their own business. Apparently we didn't look out of place anymore, with this huge man as a companion.

"I'm Dermot, Darren's father," my dad said, as he pulled his arm from the other man's hand in order to grab my shoulder. I smiled up at the man, feeling very small.

"I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. I'm s'posed ter take yeh ter get what yeh need fer school," he said, and then shook Steve's hand and mine. As an after thought, he gestured down to a boy who had been standing quietly at his side. I hadn't noticed the boy before because all of my attention was on the giant man beside him. He was scrawny, with messy black hair and a strange scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt. He looked uncomfortable when Hagrid added, "'Course! Sorry, I nearly fergot… this here is Harry Potter. I'm showin' him 'round, too."

Steve stepped forward to shake hands with the boy, just to break the ice. He introduced himself and me to him, in case he hadn't heard Hagrid say our names.

My dad took over the conversation again. As Hagrid led us through the back door and out into an alley, he asked plenty of questions about the school. Hagrid answered most of them, but some answers he admitted he didn't know, or said some information was confidential. The three of us – Harry, Steve, and I – were making small talk, mostly because Harry still seemed uncomfortable around us.

"What's the Wizarding World like, Harry?" Steve inquired, curious.

"Er… I dunno… I've never been there before. I only found out I was a wizard yesterday," Harry mumbled, seeming somewhat embarrassed.

"Really? Neither did we," I replied. "I wonder if that's how it's like for all wizards, they just find out when someone shows up on their doorstep."

"No, think about it," Steve said. "You and I have Muggle parents, so we didn't know the world existed. We must have somehow got magic powers through some recessive gene or something that our parents had. But there are adult wizards, and it's safe to assume they have families of their own. Your parents are Muggles, too, right, Harry?"

Without skipping a beat, Harry replied, "My parents died."

"Oh," Steve muttered, "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Harry said. "They died a long time ago. They weren't Muggles though… I was raised by my aunt and uncle; they don't like magic very much."

We stopped at the end of the alley, before a brick wall. I exchanged confused glances with Steve and Harry. Hagrid had pulled an umbrella out of one of his many pockets and was counting the bricks in the wall. "Stand back," he warned.

We all took huge steps back. I was certain he was going to blow the wall up with magic. But instead, he carefully tapped a brick three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he tapped began shaking and wiggling, and suddenly there was a small hole in the center, and that hole grew into an archway even tall enough for Hagrid. On the other side of the archway was a twisting cobbled street that stretched as far as I could see, lined with dozens of buildings and crowded with people of all shapes and sizes.

"Welcome ter Diagon Alley," Hagrid said.

Steve was the first through the archway, but the rest of us quickly followed. After the last of us had stepped through, the archway returned to its brick wall state. I barely noticed that, though. I was focused on the buildings with cauldrons and strange animals and brooms in the window displays, and the crowd of people in robes, some even in the stereotypical tall, pointed hat. I laughed and looked up at my dad, who was grinning, then at Harry, whose mouth hung in a perfect O shape as he studied all the shops around us. Steve's face, however, was blank, as he took in all of the sights. I could tell he was noting every detail.

Hagrid led us down the street, passed stores called "Apothecary" and "Eyelops Owl Emporium" and a half a dozen others with equally outlandish names. I stared as we passed, at musical instruments that were playing themselves, barrels full of slimy things that looked like intestines fresh from a dead animal, and signs for sales on items like "dragon scales" or "rat hearts".

"Is it like you imagined, Steve?" I asked quietly.

Steve grinned. "It's a hundred times better."

"This is Gringotts, the wizard bank," Hagrid announced.

We stopped at a huge white building that towered over the other shops. Stairs led up to bronze doors, which were being guarded by two little men in red and gold uniforms. These men weren't as tiny as Flitwick; they were about as tall as a child. They had skin as gnarled as tree bark and incredibly long fingers.

"Goblins?" Steve asked, glancing up at Hagrid for affirmation.

"Yeah, those're goblins," Hagrid replied as he started climbing the stairs. Steve and I followed at his heels, with my dad and Harry in the back. The goblins bowed as we passed, and Hagrid held the door open for us. I expected some huge hall, but instead we were in a small corridor that led to another set of doors, silver this time. They had words engraved on them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours, _

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

A second pair of goblins waited to bow us in through the silver doors, beyond which was the hall I had been expecting. It was marble and beautiful. There were goblins everywhere – behind the counters, weighing coins and stones, leading people through various doors and hallways. There must have been a hundred goblins, and even more doors! I would get lost easily here.

My dad began interrogating Hagrid about currency, but Hagrid knew almost nothing about Muggle money and couldn't help him at all. There was a line in front of the counter where wizards and witches were waiting for a goblin to assist them. We joined at the back of the line, and within only a few short minutes had made it to the front. When a goblin called us over, my dad became all business, asking about the exchange rate and account benefits and all this stuff I didn't really understand or care about. Steve was paying attention, though, with that look on his face that told me he was absorbing absolutely everything. That was one thing about Steve I totally respected – he was smart and that brain of his must have held even more information than my dad's. His mind was like a sponge.

Even though Steve was paying attention, like I said, I was not. I was looking around, watching the goblins interact with the wizards and witches. It was incredible. I felt like I was being filmed, and after a while some camera crew would jump out and explain they were making a movie. The witches and wizards would be normal people in costumes and makeup and the goblins would be puppets. I glanced up at Hagrid, as though expecting him to be the one to break the news that it was all just some hoax. He, however, was listening to my dad, too. So I looked over at Harry, who was watching something across the room.

"This is one heck of a bank," I said.

Harry snapped out of his hypnotism and grinned, "It sure is." He turned back to watch whatever was going on across the room. I followed his glance, but there was nothing happening that I could see, and I was confused. Did he not like me? Did he not want to talk to me?

I decided to speak up. "What are you looking at?"

"That man. See him? In the turban? Hagrid introduced me to him while we were waiting for you at the Leaky Cauldron. His name is Professor Quirrel, and he's a teacher at the school we're going to," Harry explained.

"Oh? Really?" I said. He certainly didn't look like a teacher. He was young, and looked like he might have been pretty good looking if he wasn't so pale and skinny, and he had this really nervous look on his face.

"It's weird… because when I met him he had this really bad stutter… you could hardly understand him. But just now, when a goblin asked him if he needed help, he answered without a stutter at all," Harry muttered.

"Weird," I said.

We were interrupted by my dad, who grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close to him. "Darren," he said, and handed me a small key, "I'm setting you up a bank account here. Your vault number is 4514. Take good care of that key, okay?" I nodded. "Remember this information. I can write it down for you later, if you want. The goblin told me that the bronze ones are called knuts, the silver ones are sickles, and the gold ones are galleons. It takes twenty nine nuts to equal a sickle and seventeen sickles to equal a galleon. A galleon is roughly five pounds."

"Alright, Dad. I'll try to remember," I said, slipping the key into my pocket. My dad handed me a bag full of money. It was heavy and jangled a lot when I shook it. "This stuff is going to be a pain to carry around," I complained.

I turned to show Steve the bag of money I held, but he was talking to the goblin, probably exchanging his money, too.

"I'm takin' Harry ter his vault, then I've got some business of me own. Yeh lot can come with us, if yeh want, but if yeh'd rather look around, me an' Harry can meet up with yeh somewhere," Hagrid said.

"Oh! Dad!" I exclaimed, "Can we go check out the owls?" After seeing the owl in Steve's backyard, I was eager to have one of my own.

"We'll meet yeh at Eyelops, then?" Hagrid asked.

Hagrid and Harry were led away by one of the many goblins. Me and my dad waited for Steve to finish exchanging his money. I noticed he had a lot more than I did. I wondered how he got so much money and had a bad feeling that he probably stole it all from his mother. He often took her money and, considering that she never gave him an allowance, I couldn't exactly blame him.

Eyelops Owl Emporium was incredible! There were cages of owls all over the place, and the floor was covered with feathers and droppings and pellets. It was loud – all the owls were screaming at us as we walked past them, and we were showered in feathers as they frantically flapped their wings in our direction. A man approached us, but my dad assured him we were just looking and led us away from him. That kind of disappointed me – I really wanted to buy an owl of my own.

"Darren, we've had this discussion before. Don't tell me you've forgotten about the spider," my dad said when I protested. Of course I hadn't. When I was younger, my parents had bought me a tarantula. It was the only pet I've ever had because after owning it just a short while I had sucked it up in the vacuum cleaner. I've not been allowed to have a pet since.

Steve was determined to buy one, though. He didn't say anything about it, but I could tell from the serious look on his face as he passed by the cages that he was judging them. He stopped at a cage containing a huge owl with a really round face and a body that was mostly pure white except for the feathers on its back, which where various shades of brown and yellow.

"_Tyto alba_," the man who had approached us earlier said. "The barn owl. This boy here is a magnificent specimen, with a wingspan of almost one hundred and fifty centimeters."

Steve seemed to agree, and I admit – it was an awesome bird. It was flapping its wings like crazy, but was completely silent. Steve asked if the bird would bite, and the man told him his birds were all fairly well socialized, so Steve put his finger into the cage. The bird kept freaking out, but after Steve stood there a while, his finger stuck through the bars, it calmed down and crept closer. It gently nibbled on Steve's finger and Steve smiled.

As Steve played with the owl, I dragged my dad to the other side of the store, where the largest owl in the whole store was screeching at the top of its lungs. It had bright orange eyes and was pale, but covered in lots of freckles.

"Look at this one!" I cried over its yells.

"The sign says it's a Eurasian Eagle owl. I've seen some of those around our house before," my dad told me.

I wanted it so badly. It was gigantic! "Dad, can't I get one? The letter from school said I could bring an owl!"

"No," he said firmly, and I could tell from the look on his face that he was not going to change his mind. But I kept going anyways, determined to win…

"Steve's getting one!"

"Great. Then you can play with his," my dad replied.

I stomped my foot and stormed out of the store, slamming the door behind me. I felt really foolish outside, when a group of people turned to stare at me. For a moment I looked around, wondering where I could go to vent some of my anger. Just one shop over, I saw some unoccupied tables outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. I walked down the road and sat down at one of the tables, my lips curled into a snarl. Sometimes I got _so_ mad at my dad. The tarantula thing was an accident! He acts so high and mighty, but I've seen him make mistakes, too!

Steve and my dad left the store after a little while and sat down at the table with me. Steve, of course, had his new owl. As we waited for Hagrid and Harry, my dad went to buy us some ice cream and Steve tried to boost my mood by including me in picking a name for his owl.

"I was thinking about naming him Flash, you know, like The Flash," Steve said, poking his fingers through the bar for the owl to nip affectionately, "But this bird needs a noble name."

I grunted, glaring at the bird. If looks could kill…

"The Greek Goddess Athena was associated with owls, but this owl's male, so that wouldn't work," he muttered, then looked at me as if expecting me to have the perfect name hidden somewhere in my brain that I was refusing to tell him.

My dad brought us back ice cream cones, which we ate in silence. I avoided their eyes. I was so angry and, admittedly, jealous. I wanted an owl_ so_ badly. It wasn't fair!

When Hagrid and Harry showed up, they must have known something was wrong. But, rather than trying to cheer me up, they both immediately began complimenting Steve's bird. Steve announced that he had decided to name him Strix, which used to be a vampiric owl creature from Roman mythology.

"That's a dumb name," I mumbled to myself.

Steve didn't hear me because he was busy discussing owls with Hagrid, who seemed to know a lot about them. But my dad definitely heard, and he glared at me. "If you grow up a little bit and do well in school this year, your mother and I will consider getting you an owl."

I groaned in reply. Parents always said stuff like that when they wouldn't let you have your way.

We ended up going to Madam Malkin's next, which was a shop where we'd get fitted for school robes. Madam Malkin wouldn't let us bring Strix in the store, though, so my dad and Hagrid decided to sit outside with him while we got measured. She led the three of us to a room in the back, where there was a boy standing on a stool. The boy was pale, with blond hair, but unlike Steve's blond hair his was nearly white. Magical scissors and pins floated around him, doing their jobs. For a moment I stared in disbelief, but when the boy shot me a dangerous look, I quickly climbed onto my own stool. Madam Malkin hurried out of the room, probably to get more supplies, leaving me, Steve, Harry, and the stranger alone in the room.

"What were you gawking at?" the boy asked. His tone was jaded and he made some syllables longer than he should have. I immediately disliked him, partially because I was in a foul mood to begin with, but also because he seemed like such a jerk.

"Nothing," I responded.

"Have you never seen magic scissors before?" he said with a smirk.

I didn't say a word back to him; I was _not_ in the mood to deal with his attitude.

"You're going to Hogwarts, too?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry replied. He used a pleasant tone of voice, trying to lighten everything up, but there was already friction between me and the new boy. Steve shot me a warning glance – he wasn't impressed with my mood.

"Do you have any idea what House you'll be in yet?"

We all shook our heads. I'm pretty sure Steve and Harry were just as clueless as I was as to what he meant.

He made a face that made my blood boil! "Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

Another round of head shakes.

"What a shame," he muttered to himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve snapped, leaping off his stool and stepping towards the other boy, who looked amused.

"Steve," I moaned, having a feeling this was going to turn very nasty very fast. This boy… the idiot!... had just insulted Steve's intelligence, which was the worst thing he could have done. Most of the kids in my school were _terrified_ of Steve. He wasn't a bully, but he definitely had a temper and a violent streak. That's why his nickname was Steve Leopard.

"It's just that I really don't think people like _you _should be allowed at Hogwarts," the boy said.

"People like _me_, huh?" Steve snarled. "And what do you mean by that?"

"You know… children who don't have magical parents. Mudbloods."

I shook my head and looked over at Harry, desperate for some intervention. Harry just shrugged, showing that he didn't know what to do.

"You don't know my parents, so keep your filthy mouth shut," Steve hissed.

"It's not worth it, Steve," I said, giving him the most earnest look that I could manage.

Steve glowered at me and I was actually scared. "Keep your mouth shut, Darren. Don't stand up for this jerk."

"I'm not standing up for him! I just don't want you guys to start a fight," I pleaded with him.

He looked about ready to bite my head off for a second, but then he calmed down and turned to step back on his stool, when the other boy said, "I can make your life at Hogwarts a Hell, _Steve_. If I were you, I'd apologize for being such a bastard."

Oh, no. That was the wrong thing to say to Steve. He didn't know who his father was, so he always took that particular insult very personally. I knew what was coming. I leapt off my stool and pulled Harry back with me, just in time for us to avoid Steve's pounce.

Madam Malkin wandered in, arms full of black fabric, just in time to watch.

Steve swung an arm, hitting the boy in the face with his elbow. The boy shoved Steve to the floor, but just before falling, Steve grabbed a handful of the boy's hair and dragged him down with him. They hit the floor with a thud that seemed to shake the entire store. I was vaguely aware of Madam Malkin screaming for them to stop, but I was focused on the fight. Steve rolled on top of the boy and began throwing punches to his face. When I saw red on the boy's pale face, I was suddenly so convinced that Steve and I were to be kicked out of the magical world, or at least out of school, that I had tears in my eyes.

"STEVE!" I yelled and grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him off the boy on the floor. "STOP!" I threw myself on his back and wrapped my arms tightly around him so that he could hardly move. He managed to push me off of him and prepared to hit me, but suddenly his expression of rage turned to one of devastation. We helped each other to our feet and he gave the boy, still sprawled on the floor, a last kick in the ribs for good measure. I could see tears in his eyes, but he wasn't going to cry in front of this kid, I knew.

Madam Malkin helped the boy stand and tried to fix up his face with her wand, but he pushed her away and stomped towards the door. "I'm never coming back here!" he yelled, nursing his bloodied face. "I don't want to shop where you serve _Mudbloods_." He slammed the door after him.

There was only a brief moment of silence before Steve rushed into the back room where Madam Malkin had disappeared to before. I followed him and found him sitting on the floor amongst rolls of fabric and shelves lined with spools of thread. He was crying, and tried to hide his face and waved for me to leave, but I wasn't about to. I got on my knees and wrapped my arms around him, despite how frightening it was to see him cry.

"Maybe my dad _was_ a wizard, Darren," he said.

"Yeah, Steve. I bet he was," I replied. I would have told him the sky was green, if that would have calmed him down. It was rare to see Steve show any emotion aside from anger, but for some reason the news he was a wizard had made him so much more susceptible to sadness. I bet he had been thinking about his dad ever since that letter arrived, hoping that it was a clue as to his lineage.

After Madam Malkin measured us, she started making our robes. We went around cleaning up the mess Steve had made – the magical pins had been scattered across the room and the black fabric that had been draped over Draco lay in tatters on the floor. She told us as she worked that the boy wasn't the kind of person we wanted to mess with. But when Steve argued that he had deserved it, she agreed with him.

When we left with our arms full of robes, my dad and Hagrid were waiting. I hadn't realized how long we had spent in there, but it had given my dad enough time to buy the rest of my school books and supplies. Hagrid also had a cage in his hand with a beautiful Snowy Owl in it. It got my hopes up – I thought maybe my dad had given in and bought me one. But no. Hagrid had bought the bird for Harry.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Hagrid said.

It had been Harry's birthday all day and he hadn't said a word to us! Harry seemed as shocked as we were, he kept saying thank you over and over again, making himself look like an idiot. I was upset all over again, and it made it even worse when Hagrid announced they were going to the book store and my dad dragged me in the opposite direction. I wanted so badly to see a magical book store! But my dad already bought my books, and had a different destination in mind.

When we stopped in front of Eyelop's, I knew exactly what he was doing. I hugged him enthusiastically and ran in, straight to the massive eagle owl in the back.

"Are you sure this is the one you want?" my dad asked. "Why don't you look around a while? There's another Snowy Owl over there, you liked Harry's, right?"

But I was not about to change my mind. The eagle owl was the biggest bird I'd ever seen in my life, and I was determined that she was going to be mine.

When we joined up with Steve, Harry, and Hagrid again in front of a store with a sign that said Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., I had my owl in tow. I decided to name her Athena, like Steve had mentioned before. Harry hadn't thought of a name for his, so we all kept making suggestions, but he said none of them fit. We held their cages together so that they could interact, but they didn't seem very interested in each other. Eventually, we gave up and went inside the shop, where Hagrid explained that we would buy our wands here. I was so excited!

The inside of the shop was small, cramped, and dimly lit. There were thousands of long, thin boxes stacked up to the ceiling.

"Good afternoon," said a man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. We all jumped in surprise. The man was old and skinny, with shimmering pale eyes. Our enthusiasm quickly died – he was creepy!

He circled us like a hawk and stopped when his eyes fell on Harry's. "You have your mother's eyes," he said in his quiet voice, "I remember her well; she came here to buy her wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow." He touched Harry's lightening bolt scar and said softly, "I also remember selling the wand that made this scar. Thirteen and a half inches, made of yew."

He stepped back and looked over Steve and me. "I don't think I sold your parents their wands, however."

"Er… my mom and dad don't have wands…" I mumbled, suddenly embarrassed, as though I had disappointed him.

"Ah, I see," he muttered. He pulled a measuring tape from his pocket and it was like being in Madam Malkin's again as he measured us all and asked us which hands we used. Then he was off through the towers of boxes. When he returned, he had his arms full of them. "No two Ollivander wands are the same, boys," he explained. He searched through the boxes and handed the first one to Harry. "This one is nine inches, made of Beachwood, with a core of dragon heartstring. Try it out."

Harry looked down at the box through his bespectacled green eyes. He carefully opened the box and removed the long, thin piece of wood from inside. For a moment he studied it, then he gave it a flick. Ollivader grabbed it from his hands and set it aside.

"Darren, this one is for you. Eight inches with a demiguise hair, made from yew," Ollivander said, handing me a box. I quickly removed the wand, eager to try it out, but as soon as it reached my fingers he snatched it away, saying, "No… not it, either. You see, boys, the wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around." The next box went to Steve. "Sixteen inches, unusually thin, made from ash, with a core of Abraxan feather."

Steve seemed to know the wand wasn't mean for him, because he handed it back to Ollivander immediately after the first wave. Ollivander dug through the boxes in his arms again and handed another box to Steve. "This one is made from reed, an unusual wand wood. It's core is equally as rare – Chimera scale. It's 12 ¾ inches long." When Steve took this one from its box, he wore a smile on his face. He waved it and silver erupted from its end like fireworks. Ollivander clapped.

"Does that mean it's mine?" Steve asked.

Ollivander nodded and returned to searching the boxes in his arms. He must have decided that none of them would work, because he disappeared again and returned carrying different boxes. "Here, Harry," he said, "ebony and unicorn hair."

Harry took the wand and had the same results he had before – nothing happened. He swished it around several times, but no luck. Ollivander took the wand away and gave him another, and another, and another… there was a pile of boxes at our feet of wands Harry had tried. It did not seem to be irritating Ollivander at all, though. He just kept pulling boxes off the shelves. But when Harry failed yet again with a wand Ollivander had called "reed, like your friend's, but ten inches with unicorn hair", Ollivander stopped and handed it to me.

"I think this one might just be more suited for you," he said, and thrust it into my hand.

I was doubtful. I had just watched it fail for Harry, and couldn't imagine why it would work with me. But as soon as I wrapped my fingers around it, I felt something different. It felt _good_ in my hand, and a smile on my face appeared that mirrored Steve's from just a moment ago. This _was_ my wand. I waved it, and the result was a green mist trailing from its tip.

"Very good," Ollivander said, and patted my shoulder. The next wand he handed to Harry was "holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches", which erupted into gold and red sparks when he waved it. We had all found our wands! I gave him a high-five.

"It's very curious, Mr. Potter, that your wand's brother gave you that scar…" Ollivader said.

That seemed to kill Harry's good mood. He swallowed and looked down at the wand in his hand.

Outside, the sun was setting. As we made our way back to the Leaky Cauldron, I asked Harry about his scar. He seemed reluctant to answer. "Hagrid told me that… when I was a baby, this evil wizard killed my parents. He tried to kill me, but he couldn't. Instead, I got this scar and he was destroyed. I don't really… understand it all… but apparently because of it I'm some sort of celebrity."

"Well, Steve, isn't that cool? We know a celebrity!" I laughed, and elbowed Harry in the ribs. "You'll have to give me your autograph!"


	5. New Friends, New Enemies

**A/N**: Another update! See, this thing hasn't totally died yet!

* * *

I didn't see much of Steve over the next few weeks. Whenever I called him, he told me he was studying his school books. That was kind of weird to hear from Steve, who usually copied homework rather than do his own, but he was obsessed with the world we were becoming a part of and wanted to know everything he could about it. I guess I probably should have been studying, too. But I was too busy enjoying the last of the summer holidays. 

After the trip to Diagon Alley, I was filled with excitement, too. I didn't need to spend lots of time with my parents anymore, because I wasn't afraid of being really homesick. Instead, I spent a lot of time with my other friends. It would be a whole year before I saw them again. At home, I did try to eat all of my favorite foods, because I was kind of afraid the school food would be terrible. I bugged mom to make me all of my favorites, and whenever we went out for dinner I'd convince everyone to go to my favorite restaurants. My parents always agreed, because they understood how I felt. It irritated Annie a lot, but I made her feel better by playing with her whenever I was home.

Before bed, when my parents thought I was brushing my teeth and putting my pajamas on, I actually spent a lot of time trying on my school robes and looking at the pictures in my school book. Sometimes, I'd take out my wand. Even though I wasn't allowed to use it, just holding it and feeling the power inside of it gave me a rush.

At first, my mom was outraged that my dad let me get another pet. But it didn't take long for my family to accept Athena. At first, she would sleep all day, which made my mom happy but kind of upset me and Annie because it was impossible to interact with her. Then she'd wake up and become active in the middle of the night, flapping around the inside of her cage and screeching all night. One night, I eventually got so frustrated that I opened a window and let her out of the cage. I didn't think I would ever see her again, which seemed fine with me that night but in the morning when I woke up and was thinking more clearly I realized my parents would kill me, and I'd _never_ bet allowed to keep another animal again. But, thankfully, at nearly noon that day the owl showed up on my windowsill. It became a routine – she'd sleep during the day, wake up in the evening for me and Annie to play with her, when I went to bed I'd let her outside and then in the morning she'd come back home and fall asleep. I started testing her delivery abilities out by writing notes to Annie or one of my parents, then giving it to her and telling her who it was for. She'd always find them and return with another note from them. Then I started using her to send letters to Steve. She usually returned without a response, but minutes later Strix would show up with a letter from Steve. I was so glad I had an owl, and I think that eventually my family was, too!

On the first day of September, I had to wake up early for another long trip into London . Steve rode with us again. He was really quiet the whole ride because he was trying to finish up the last of his schoolbooks – he had already read them all! I let him read, because I hoped that if we had been required to read the books (something no one had mentioned to me!) then Steve would tell me anything I needed to know. It was chaos having five people, two owls, and half a dozen trunks and suitcases crammed into one car.

The train, called The Hogwarts Express, would be leaving from the King's Cross Station at eleven o'clock . Our train was leaving from Platform 9 ¾, which really puzzled us because my dad said there weren't any platforms numbered in quarters or even halves. And when we got there at half past ten , he was right. I felt ridiculous standing there between platforms nine and ten with an owl sitting amongst my baggage.

"What do we do?" I asked stupidly.

My dad eyed the people passing us. There weren't that many because, according to the train times, there wasn't a single train leaving at eleven. This worried us even more. And everyone seemed to be dressed normally, carrying normal suitcases, talking about taking normal trips to normal places. As we watched the crowd, my dad suddenly got excited.

"Look! Over there!" he said, pointing at a boy speaking with a guard.

It was Harry! He would know where to go. I rushed over to him and when I said his name he looked startled, then relieved. "Darren! I'm so glad to see someone I recognize. Where are we supposed to go?"

My face fell. He didn't know either? There was something wrong here for sure. As we walked back to my family, I explained we had no idea what to do either. I introduced him to Annie and my mother, who complained about him being on his own in London . Even though he hadn't said very much to me about his aunt and uncle, I figured they must have not been very nice people.

It was Steve who eventually saved the day. He overheard a passing family talking about Platform 9 ¾. "Look, Darren!" he said, nudging me in the ribs. We watched, shocked, as one of the older sons walked right through the divider between platforms nine and ten.

Our group made our way over to theirs.

"Excuse me," my dad said to the woman, who was probably the mother of all of the kids. They all had the same shade of red hair. "Could you explain how to…"

"Get on the Platform?" she asked.

We all nodded.

"Of course! I'm guessing it's your boys' first year at Hogwarts?" she asked, eying me, Steve, and Harry with a smile. All three of us, even Steve, smiled back. She looked really nice.

"They're not all mine, just Darren," he said, ruffling my hair. I pulled away and glowered at him. "The other two are his friends, Harry and Steve."

She smiled. "It's my son Ron's first time, too." She gestured towards the youngest of her sons. "All you have to do is walk straight through the barrier. Watch as Fred and George do it."

There was a set of twins at her side. One of them stepped forward, gave us a mischievous grin, and pushed his trolley right through the barrier. I stared, mouth hanging opened, as the second twin followed.

"It's easy," the woman said. "Just don't stop and don't be frightened, or else you'll crash right into it."

Steve was the first of us with enough courage to go through the wall. He disappeared through it just as smoothly as the redheaded boys. My dad laughed and said, "You give it a try, Darren!"

"Okay," I said. I hugged Annie and then my parents. My mom almost didn't let me go, and gave me a big wet kiss that I had to wipe off with a grimace.

"I better see Athena with a letter every week," she said. She looked like she was about to cry.

"I promise, Mom," I mumbled. "Bye, guys." I gripped my trolley full of luggage tightly. Despite having just seen four people walk through the wall, I was very certain I would crash into it and hurt myself and Athena. I took a deep breath and ran, closing my eyes in preparation for the crash.

But it never came.

When I opened my eyes I was staring up at a big red steam engine. The platform was crowded with people! Loads of them had caged owls like me. As I searched through the crowd, Harry appeared at my side.

"I'm looking for Steve," I told him.

"He's over there!"

We walked to Steve, who seemed impatient. "Come on, we need to find a seat. The compartments in the front are already full!"

We pushed through the crowd towards the end of the train, searching through the train windows for empty compartments. When we found one, we set our owls in first and then helped each other move in our trunks. It was really difficult trying to get everything up the steps.

"Need a hand?" someone said. It was one of the twins we had followed onto the platform.

"Please!" I cried. He was older and taller, and with the help of his twin we easily moved everything into the compartment.

"Thanks," Harry sighed. He brushed his messy hair away from his sweaty face, and for a moment I could see his strange scar. The twins had spotted it, too.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you –?"

"He _is_," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"_Harry Potter_," chorused the twins.

Harry had said he was somewhat of a celebrity, but their reaction was still a shock to me. He looked uncomfortable as he said, "Yeah, that's me."

They looked really excited, and I felt really sorry for Harry, because he definitely didn't seem to want the attention. But Harry was saved, because the boys' mother was calling them. We thanked them profusely before parting with them.

On the train, to change the subject, since Harry still looked awkward, I asked him about his owl. He said he decided to name her Hedwig, after a name he found in one of the school books. I was immediately afraid that I should have read the books, too, but didn't say anything because I was kind of embarrassed.

"I wanted to send Strix with a letter," Steve told Harry, "But I remember you said your aunt and uncle didn't like magic, so I didn't think they'd be thrilled about the owl."

"No, they wouldn't," Harry said, smiling.

"I wanted to test Strix, but I guess I'll be able to test him when we get to school. I'll send a letter to my mother," Steve explained.

"Really? That's nice of you," I said. I was surprised Steve was going to send his mother mail.

"I have a feeling she won't send me any Christmas presents if I don't," Steve grumbled. "I already told her I won't be coming home for the holidays. She didn't seem too upset."

Harry smiled. "I don't think I'll be going home over the holidays, either," he said.

I frowned. I hadn't thought about coming home over the holidays. I guess whether or not I did would depend on the school itself.

The train whistle interrupted us. We could hear loads of students yelling their goodbyes out of the windows. I forgot about the holidays quickly. I had never been on a train before. We all stood up to get a good look out the windows in our compartment. The only people standing on the platform now were parents and younger siblings. All of the students had gotten aboard. When the train started moving we settled back down in our seats and started talking about our expectations of the school.

"Maybe it will be like Dr. Xavier's school in X-men!" I suggested. Harry didn't know much about X-men, or any comics, so I started to explain them to him, and promised I'd ask my parents to send them to me. Before I got very far in the explanation, however, Steve interrupted.

"It's a castle," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"A castle. The school, Hogwarts, is a castle," he replied.

"Awesome!"

At that moment, the door of the compartment slid opened, and the redheaded boy stepped into the compartment.

"Do you mind if I sit in here?" the boy, Ron, I think his mom said his name was, asked. "Everywhere else is full."

We all shook our heads, to show that we didn't mind. "Go ahead," I said.

The boy sat down in an empty seat and avoided our eyes for a second before asking, "Are you really Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"Have you really got the scar?"

Harry nodded again and lifted his bangs to show the boy.

"Wow!" Ron said, awestruck. "So that's where You-Know-Who…?"

Harry nodded a third time but said, "I don't remember it, though."

I was feeling really left out. I didn't know anything about this _You-Know-Who_. And even though it was cool to have a celebrity friend, I was irritated that the other boy didn't seem to care at all about me or Steve. I eyed Steve, to see if he looked irritated, but he was busy stroking Strix through the bars of the cage. I sighed.

"Oh, these are my new friends Darren and Steve," Harry said.

"Hi," the boy said, "I'm Ron."

"Have you ever read X-men?" I asked him.

"What?" he said, looking confused.

So I went back to explaining X-men to Harry and Ron. Steve was mostly quiet and thoughtful, but sometimes he'd speak up whenever they asked me a question I didn't know. Apparently wizards and Muggles had completely different cultures, because Harry, who'd been raised by Muggles, had heard of X-Men before, but Ron, who had been raised by an entirely magical family, didn't know what I was talking about at all. I told him that if he told me about the magical world, I'd tell him about the Muggle world. I think I was becoming pretty good friends with Ron by the time the door opened again.

This time, an adult witch came in pushing a cart full of candy. Ron didn't have any money, but Steve and Harry and I bought loads of the stuff to share with him. My parents would have killed me if they knew how much junk food I bought. I'd never heard of any of the candies on the cart, so I was determined to try everything. There were Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and Cauldron Cakes and dozens of other things with strange names.

When we sat back down again, Ron explained to us what each of the candies was. Steve really liked the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, which really were every flavor. We started daring each other to eat the gross ones, like earwax and dirt. I immediately fell in love with the Chocolate Frog candies, which were chocolate shaped like frogs that actually jumped before you bit into them. Each candy came with a card in them. Ron already had almost all of the cards – he collected them. So he gave us his cards and told us to start collecting them, too, because almost everyone did. We divided the cards up even between the three of us, without looking, so that we couldn't fight about which ones we wanted. Harry ended up getting the one of Albus Dumbledore, who was the Headmaster at our new school.

"Considered by man the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling," Harry read off his card. When he flipped it over, there was a picture of the man. He was old, with half-moon shaped glasses, a long silver beard and equally long silver hair. Suddenly, his face turned and left the edge of the picture.

"He's gone!" the three of us cried in shock.

Ron laughed and explained that the pictures always moved! That was definitely a huge shock. He told us that some pictures even interacted with people. I was so excited to learn what more surprises this world had to offer.

We were interrupted yet again by the compartment door opening. There was a tearful, chubby boy and a girl with bushy brown hair.

"Have you seen a toad anywhere?" the girl asked.

We told her we hadn't seen one and introduced ourselves. Her name was Hermione and the boy's was Neville's. I had already made lots of friends, so I figured I was about to make one more. But she didn't care about me or Steve or Ron at all. She immediately was interested in Harry.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Hermione asked. "I've read all about you."

Harry nodded but looked really uncomfortable. She must have noticed because she and Neville excused themselves and went to look for the toad again.

"I don't think I liked her much," Ron mumbled. "I hope I don't get in the same House as her."

Houses! That's what that stupid kid in Diagon Alley had been talking about. Before I could ask him about them, Steve did.

"Well, when you get to school, they sort everyone into Houses," Ron explained. "There's four of them – Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. They supposedly sort you based on your personality or something, but I don't really think they do. The system's got to be falling apart. Because all of my family was sorted into Gryffindor, and one of my older brothers, Percy, is… well, he's definitely not Gryffindor material, that's for sure. I suppose I'll get sorted in there, too. None of the houses are really better than the other, but I'd die if I was sorted into Slytherin."

"What's wrong with Slytherin?" Harry asked, he looked concerned and I figure he was probably sure that's what House he'd be put in. I shared his fear.

"Well, You-Know-Who was a Slytherin. Slytherins tend to lean towards dark arts; they're not very nice people. And they're really concerned with blood status; the whole lot of them like to think of themselves as pureblood, even though no one's really pureblood anymore," Ron grumbled.

I sighed in relief. I couldn't be sorted into that House! I consider myself a pretty nice guy, as long as you don't catch me in a bad mood. "Maybe we'll all be put in the same House together?" I suggested.

Ron shrugged. "I suppose we'll find out tonight."

The next portion of the ride was spent talking about Quidditch. It was a sport played on flying broomsticks, and Ron was a huge fan. I got excited when he described it, because I consider myself pretty athletic. I was determined to try out for the school Quidditch team until Ron said you had to be second year. Oh well… I could wait until next year.

It wasn't long until we were interrupted again. I was beginning to expect it, it seemed to be happening so frequently. This time, the person who entered was definitely recognizable. It was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's, flanked by two thickset boys.

"Just who I was looking for. I was just telling Crabbe and Goyle about you," the boy said, gesturing to the big boys at his side. "I don't think I introduced myself properly when we met. My name is Draco Malfoy."

We glared.

"And I heard that you're Harry Potter," Draco said to Harry. "You shouldn't be hanging out with these three. You're better than they are, you should be making friends with people like me."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Steve got to his feet and knocked Draco's hand away. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward menacingly, but Steve didn't even look in their direction. His eyes were staring directly into Draco's, and he had a snarl on his face that I knew well.

"I see your nose healed up well, Malfoy," Steve hissed. "I'm surprised you didn't learn your lesson about keeping your mouth shut."

"You have a lot of guts to talk to me like that, especially with Crabbe and Goyle here," Malfoy said.

"They don't scare me," Steve replied, "My nickname isn't Steve Leopard for nothing. I'll rip those boys to shreds if they lay a finger on me."

Even though the boys were huge, I didn't doubt it. I could see the veins pulsing on Steve's neck. His adrenaline was rushing, and I knew he was capable of some serious damage when he felt like it. He was right about his nickname – he hadn't earned it overnight. Even his mother was afraid of his tantrums.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed and took a step towards Steve, but Malfoy waved for them to step back and they did. "You made a mistake hitting me, _Leopard_," he said. "And Potter, you made a mistake befriending this riffraff." He gestured towards me and Ron in particular.

I stood up, prepared to stand up for myself, but Ron spoke up first. "Say that to my face," he snapped.

Malfoy laughed. "No doubt you're another Weasley. I've heard all about your family from my father."

Ron's face went red, more with embarrassment than anger. It was my turn to speak up, and boy was I ready for it. "You such an idiot, Malfoy. You have to put others down to make yourself feel better. I guess it's understandable – I'd be desperate for an ego boost, too, if I had to look at _that _face in the mirror every morning."

Malfoy's lip curled in rage. I had a feeling he knew that he'd have to use magic if he and his goons were to defeat us in a fight. He obviously didn't want to get into trouble this early into the school year, because he took a breath and turned away from us in order to make eye contact with Harry once again.

"You see the lot you've involved yourself in, Potter?" he laughed.

"Yes, I do," Harry said with a smile. "And after seeing you and your friends, there's no question in my mind of who's better than whom."

Malfoy shook his head. "Fine. You enjoy your year at Hogwarts. I'll make it such a Hell you four won't want to come back for a second one."

The trio left the compartment and slammed the door behind them. Ron congratulated Steve over and over again, and Steve took it all with a grin.

All the sudden, a voice called through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

By the time we had pulled on our school robes, the train had stopped. We said goodbye to our owls and pushed our way past the other students to the platform outside. It was nighttime and the air was cool. The four of us didn't exchange a single word as we observed the little station, but either because of distance or because of the dark, we couldn't see the school yet.

A familiar voice started calling out for first years and we rushed to meet Hagrid. We didn't have time to introduce him to Ron, because he was rounding up all the first years. The whole group of us, maybe fifty of us, followed him down a winding path. When the path ended at the edge of a huge lake, everyone, including me, gasped. On the other side of the lake, nestled in the mountains, we could make out the outline of a huge castle. We finally made it to Hogwarts!


	6. The Sorting

**A/N:** These past few chapters have been a chore to write, and I hope they aren't too boring to read. I fear they are… ugh… I'm sorry. It's just that I wanted to stick close to the books in the beginning. But within the next chapters, it starts getting dramatically different from PS/SS and it'll be loads of more fun for all of us. By the way, a couple of paragraphs are directly from the books, so I italicized them. I meant to put them in asterisks, but it wouldn't show up for FFN.

BTW - I'd _love_ constructive criticism! 3

* * *

"Whoa…" I heard myself utter. 

I looked around at the reactions of everyone around me. Harry's shocked expression was almost identical to mine, but not very many others in the crowd looked quite as awed as we were. The purebloods had probably grown up hearing all about Hogwarts, and some of them, like Draco Malfoy, looked pretty bored with the castle. Only Steve's expression really stood out from the crowd. He looked completely stoic as he observed the castle; he was probably absorbing all of the details.

The moment was interrupted by Hagrid. There was a group of boats sitting on the shore of the lake, and he instructed us to get inside of them. Four of us could fit into a single boat, so me, Harry, Ron, and Steve all piled into one. When everyone was settled in the boats, they started moving on their own! Without the help of rudders or paddles, the small boats crossed the lake.

"This is exciting," I said to Steve.

He nodded and smiled, "I still can't believe this is happening."

When we reached the other side of the lake, Hagrid led us through a maze of caves. Aside from his lantern, there was no light, and everyone huddled close so that they didn't get lost in the dozens of caverns that branched off our path. The air in the caves was cooler and water dripped from the stalactites above us into puddles that were sometimes ankle-deep. The dampness made everything smell pretty bad. I never wondered where we were until Steve said at one point, "I think we're under the lake."

A girl behind us whispered to her friend, "I hope there isn't a cave-in, or else we'll drown."

This obviously worried several people. I looked up towards Hagrid, expecting him to either confirm what Steve said or calm the nervous girl, but he either did not hear or was ignoring us to better focus on the path.

Eventually, we came out of the caves onto the lawn in front of the school. From this close, it was even more massive and intimidating than before. We were led inside the humongous entrance hall and greeted by a woman who was no doubt a witch. With her tall, pointed hat and billowing robes she looked how I had always imagined witches to look. She was probably a lot older than my parents, but I could tell by her stern expression and the way she stood tall and strong that she was not a typical feeble elderly woman. We were herded into a small room across the hall. As we walked I studied the beautiful marble stairs before us, and the suits of armor standing beside the front doors. It looked like the suits of armor were watching us, and I couldn't tell if I was being paranoid or if there was magic involved. When I craned my neck, as far as I could see above me there were staircases leading higher and higher. Everything was lit by torches – there didn't seem to be any sign of electricity in the castle.

Once inside the smaller room, the witch introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. She told us we were going to be "Sorted" and laid out some basic rules. I didn't understand what was about to happen at all, but before I could ask any questions she had left us. "Ron, what is the 'Sorting'?" I asked my new friend, figuring that with his knowledge of the Wizarding World he would certainly have an answer. But he had no clue, just some speculations based on what his older brothers had told him.

I glanced around for a friendly face to ask, but everyone was being quiet and looked somewhat worried, so I decided I'd just wait. Apparently, the Sorting was not going to be fun at all. The group of us stood around, barely speaking at all, fidgeting nervously. I was looking from Steve, who looked pensive, to Harry and Ron, who both seemed full of dread. I heard a noise and my eyes immediately went to the door, thinking McGonagall was coming back for us, but before my brain could even register that she wasn't there, the people behind me began screaming. I leaped around and gasped myself, falling to the ground and taking Steve down with me. We stared up at the foggy white figures hovering above us, who were snickering.

"First years," one of the ghosts muttered, rolling his eyes. There were about twenty of them, all white and see-through. Most of them weren't trying to hide their amusement at us. Me and Steve had fallen and a pair of girls had cowered in the corner, holding each other. Of course, the group standing around Draco Malfoy were smirking and staring at us. Our blood status was painfully obvious at that point.

"Come on," said a loud voice. "Everyone get themselves together."

McGonagall had come back in, and was making everyone get into a line. Steve and I pulled ourselves to our feet. I apologized over and over again for knocking him down, because I knew he was angry for being made a fool of. Around us, the ghosts were leaving through the walls, still laughing amongst themselves. My face must have been as red as a tomato; I was so embarrassed.

We all walked single-file back across the entrance hall, through a set of doors, and into the Great Hall. I couldn't wipe the smile from my face as I stared at all of the great things around me. There were thousands of candles just hanging in midair, and when I looked further up, the ceiling of the room was a beautiful night sky. Hundreds of students sat at the four long tables, which were covered in golden plates and bowls and goblets. At the other end of the hall, I could see a table where the teachers sat, and amongst them I recognized Professor Flitwick. I wanted to catch his eye; I wanted him to acknowledge me, but he didn't. He was probably the strangest looking of all the teachers, I had to admit, but they all looked pretty bizarre.

We stopped walking and McGonagall set a stool in front of us. On top of the stool, she put a really dirty old pointed hat. There was silence. Everyone was watching, I could feel their eyes all around me. I tried to erase any fear from my face, but it was hard. Then, all of the sudden, the hat sprung to life! A seam ripped open on the hat, and the wrinkles in it took the shape of a face, and it started to sing a song in perfect English!

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can top them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindor apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning  
Will always find their kind:  
Or perhaps in Slytherin,  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

After the song, everyone in the room started clapping, and the first years slowly joined in, too. The hat bowed at the applause, starting at one table and working its way down the hall, and then became immobile again. After everything had quieted down again, McGonagall stepped forward with a long role of parchment. She said to us all, "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." I swallowed and looked around nervously. We were going to do it right here? But there were so many people watching! I was horrified! At least my name is later on in the alphabet.

"Abbot, Hannah!" McGonagall cried, and the sorting began.

My fear didn't go away as I watched the others get sorted. Sometimes the hat took a very long time, while for other people it called out a house immediately. When the house was announced, the table of those students would erupt in applause and welcome their new housemate to the table, making room for them. I was afraid (stupidly, I admit) that the house wouldn't be able to pick a place for me, and I'd sit there forever. Or else that, when I did get sorted, no one would applause, because no one would want me in their house.

After a Megan Jones was sorted into Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall called out "Leonard, Steve!" I watched as Steve walked confidently up to the stool and put the hat on his head. Almost as soon as the hat had been placed there, it called made its decision…

"Slytherin!"

The Slytherin table cheered for him, and he took a seat beside a girl named Daphne Greengrass, who had been the last person to be sorted into Slytherin before Steve. I definitely wasn't feeling good about this anymore. Two of the boys at the Slytherin table had been Malfoy's "bodyguards" on the train – they were eyeing Steve suspiciously. I glanced over at Malfoy, who looked just as unsettled by this as I was. He met my eyes and glared at me so fiercely that I had to turn away.

The next of my friends to be sorted was Harry Potter. When McGonagall called out his name, everything went very quiet. I felt so horrible for him as he stepped forward. Everyone was whispering, and even the teachers seemed to be gossiping. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, willing Harry to be sorted into Slytherin, so that we could all be together. There was a very long pause. The hat was taking forever! I wanted to yell for the hat to hurry up, and had to bite my lip to keep myself from doing so. Finally, the hat roared…

"GRYFFINDOR!"

McGonagall called my name next. My stomach churned. Already we were being split up. What if I became a Hufflepuff and Ron a Ravenclaw? I'd be alone in my house. I looked over at Steve desperately, as if he could make the hat's decision for it. He gave me a quick smile, which made it all the worse. I trudged up to the stool, quickly shoving the brim of the hat down over my eyes, so that I didn't have to see everyone watching me.

The hat spoke to me in a quiet voice, so that no one else could hear. "I'm quite torn," he told me. "I can clearly tell you have the loyalty of a Hufflepuff."

_Oh, no_! I thought, _my nightmare is coming true!_

"You don't want to be in Hufflepuff?" the Hat asked me. "Why not? Oh, I see… that Steve boy is your friend, isn't he. Well, I'm sorry, but you aren't cut out to be a Slytherin at all. You've got quite a lot of courage, though, and I suppose I could put you with your Gryffindor friend." When he sensed my relief, he called his decision out to the whole room, and the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers.

I removed the hat and ran over to a seat beside Harry. There was a ghost sitting directly across from us, who beamed when I sat down. I was pat on the back and congratulated by all of the older Gryffindors, but I still wasn't at ease. I glanced over at Steve, who avoiding meeting my eye. He looked very angry. I felt horrible.

There were only three people left to be sorted now. Ron was second to last. He looked really ill as he approached the stool, and I couldn't blame him. Looking around me at my housemates, it seemed that all of his brothers were in this house. And now, so were me and Harry. He probably felt like he_ had_ to be sorted into Gryffindor.

When he put the hat on, I tried to imagine the conversation going on in his head. I knew he couldn't be in Slytherin, unfortunately for Steve. And I figured he probably wouldn't be in Ravenclaw; he didn't seem like a particularly intellectual, studious person. Just as I was trying to work out if he fit into Hufflepuff, the hat cried out its decision and Ron joined us at the Gryffindor table, beaming as the rest of the table roared in approval.

Ron's brothers congratulated him as the final boy was sorted into Slytherin. The stool and hat were taken away by McGonagall, and for a moment there was silence. I wondered if the others had eaten without us and would start leaving now. But then the wizard in the middle of the teacher's table stood up. He was undoubtedly Albus Dumbledore, from the trading card we had seen on the train.

_"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"_

I was definitely confused. Was this some sort of magical spell? Everyone was cheering enthusiastically as he took his seat again, but I just sat there trying to make sense of it. I glanced across the room at Steve, who was staring down at his lap, his face blank of any emotion. I felt ill. I didn't _want_ to be separated from Steve, but if I was in his position I'd probably just as upset. I wanted to go sit by him, or drag him over with me. But everyone was sitting at their house tables… I doubted that a Slytherin would be welcome here. Why did we have to get sorted anyways? It was all so stupid to me.

When I turned back towards the Gryffindor table, I noticed that the platters were all filled with food! If I had been asked to list every food I could think of, so much of the stuff on the table would have been left out. I even spotted my favorite foods– chicken, potatoes, corn… Somehow, this banquet had appeared in the second my head was turned! I definitely loved magic. I dove in, helping myself.

After the initial surprise had worn off, and I had taken a few bites of the food on my plate, I noticed that the ghost across from us was watching us all eat with a distracted expression on his face.

"Can ghosts not eat?" I asked him, curiously. I had always believed in ghosts, but I never thought they could be like this, just sitting across from me at the dinner table. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I was afraid of offending him. I didn't exactly know what was considered appropriate in the company of the deceased.

He shook his head, but must have shaken it too hard, because for a moment it seemed like it was going to fall right off. I stared, even though I knew I shouldn't have. I couldn't help it. Was his head just kept on by his ruff? I had heard silly children's stories about people keeping decapitated heads on with scarves and collars. Was this similar? I wanted to ask him, but I didn't want to be rude.

"My name is Darren," I told him.

He smiled. "And I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the ghost of Gryffindor tower."

I grinned. "This is so cool. I love Hogwarts already! I never imagined myself having a conversation with a ghost!" I exclaimed.

He chuckled. "Yes, it's nice to meet you, as well."

"Can I ask you something personal? About being dead?" I asked.

He looked uncomfortable, and I immediately regretted asking him that. "Well, there are many questions I can't answer. But, if I can, I will."

I didn't want to ask him now, but Harry, Ron, and several other Gryffindors were pretty interested in the conversation now, so it gave me a little bit of confidence. "I was just wondering how you died, is all…"

Sir Nicholas sighed. He grabbed his left ear and pulled on it. Once again, the head wobbled, but this time it actually did come off! Several students, especially the girls, squealed and hid their eyes. But I gasped in awe and clapped. "Great!"

"You're Nearly Headless Nick!" Ron said, with a mouth full of food. "My brothers told me all about you!"

"Yes, of course…" Sir Nicholas mumbled.

I frowned. "Sorry…" I muttered to the ghost, "I didn't mean to bother you."

He flipped his head back onto his neck and smiled. "It's not a problem. I get this all of the time."

The others started talking about their families, and I lost interest. I missed my family, and didn't really want to talk about them, because it would make me homesick. I focused on my food, occasionally glancing over at Steve. Another boy, who McGonagall had called out as "Nott, Theodore" was talking to him as they ate. I felt really bad, and wanted to tell him about Nick. There was a ghost at his table, too, but on the opposite end. He was pretty frightening, with blank eyes that stared and silver blood all over his clothes. I was sure Steve was curious; I definitely was.

My musings were interrupted by a loud "Ouch!" that came from Harry. The people in our proximity turned towards him, concerned. He had a hand to his forehead, covering his scar, and his teeth were clenched from the pain.

"Are you all right?" I asked him.

He nodded, and his eyes wandered over towards the High Table where the teachers sat. He asked who the professor next to Quirrell was, and Percy Weasley, one of Ron's many older brothers, answered, _"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking nervous, that's Proofessor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."_

Harry turned back to look at the High Table, and so did I. Professor Snape was very pale, almost sickly looking, with black hair and a hooked nose. He wore all black and a sour expression on his face. He was in a conversation with Quirrell, but it was obvious Snape wasn't exactly thrilled by the conversation. He was not even really looking in the other man's direction, mostly just nodding and occasionally rolling his eyes.

When I turned back towards the table, the food before us was slowly beginning to disappear, leaving the plates sparkling clean like they had been before. All eyes went up towards the High Table as Dumbledore stood and spoke again.

_"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-the-term notice to give you._

_"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well._

_"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors._

_"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch._

_"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."_

A few people laughed, but most of us didn't. I took what he said very seriously. As I sat there watching him talk, I don't know why, but I immediately liked him. Maybe it was the mischievous twinkle in his eye that I could even see from across the room, or maybe it was because he looked so similar to wizards I heard of in stories. Regardless of why, I liked the old man, and I got the impression that he liked every single one of us, too, and would only say something that absolutely serious if it was true.

Dumbledore announced that it was time to sing the school song. He swished his wand and golden writing poured from its tip, spelling out the words. I didn't sing, but I sort of mumbled the words to myself. Everyone was singing it to different tunes at different paces, so that it was hard to make out exactly what was being sung.

By the time Percy, who was a prefect, led us up to our dormitories, I was exhausted. This had been one heck of a day! I trudged up the marble staircase, talking excitedly with Harry and Ron about how great it was that we were in the same House, but my heart wasn't really into the conversation. I desperately wished Steve was in Gryffindor, too.

If Percy had not been leading us, I would have been hopelessly lost. We went up staircases and through tapestries and hidden doorways. All along our path, there were portraits of people, moving around inside their frames like an average person, calling to us, which was so distracting I was unable to remember the way in case I need to go by myself at some point. Finally, we stopped in front of a painting of a huge woman, who asked us for the password.

"Caput Draconis," Percy said.

The portrait swung forward like a door on hinges and revealed a hole in the wall. We had to climb up into it, and once we dropped down on the other side, we were inside a round room filled with comfortable looking armchairs. There were two doors on the opposite end of the room; Percy led the girls through one and the boys through another. When we went through our door, we had to climb up a spiral staircase. At the top of the stairs was another room, this one lined with big canopy beds. Our trunks were set at the ends of the beds, and we had to find out trunks to figure out which bed was ours. Everyone got ready to sleep and shut the curtains around their beds without saying much. I changed into my pajamas and got some paper out of my trunk, intending to write a letter to my parents. But I had only written "Dear Mom, Dad, and Annie" before I could barely keep my eyes opened any more, and decided to go to sleep.


	7. A Rough First Week

**A/N**: Yay! It's finally parting from the books.

* * *

It took several days to get used to life at Hogwarts. After several different occasions when I ran into ghosts, I got used to seeing them float through the halls. Some of them were really friendly, and gave me directions to classes. This was a huge help, because the stairways and doors moved and changed so frequently that I was lost every time I left a room. But others weren't quite so pleasant. On Tuesday, I ran into a poltergeist named Peeves, who hovered in my path, refusing to let me pass. When I turned around, deciding to find another corridor that led to my destination, he flung pieces of chalk at my back, getting the white powder all over my black robes. Draco Malfoy's little gang of Slytherins teased me about it for days afterwards.

When I finally arrived at my classes, I found they weren't all fun and games like I imagined. Some were great, like Herbology, where we studied magical plants with a cool teacher named Professor Sprout, and Astronomy, where we went up to a tall tower at Midnight to look up at the stars. Professor Flitwick's Charm class seemed pretty fun, too. I thought History of Magic would be interesting, since Professor Binns who taught the subject was a ghost, but he ended up being the most boring person I've ever met, and his lectures often left me drowsy as I desperately tried to take notes. Transfigurations, taught by Professor McGonagall, seemed promising, especially when she started the first class by transforming her desk into a pig, but we spent most of the period taking notes and she told us we were going to be starting off very small – turning matches to needles. I think my least favorite class was Professor Quirrell's; Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed like such an exciting subject, but his stuttering made him nearly impossible to understand sometimes, and he was so superstitious and cowardly that the class seemed like a complete joke. Also, the room smelled so strongly of garlic (which he said was to ward off vampires) that it made me sick. One afternoon, when I was doing homework with Steve in the Library, he told me that he had asked Quirrell about vampires. Steve thought that Quirrell was lying about meeting them, because he refused to answer any questions.

Well, on Friday, Defense Against the Dark Arts lost its status as my least favorite class.

Friday started out a good day. Every morning during breakfast, owls would pour in through the windows and deliver mail to their owners. I hadn't had time to finish my letter to my parents, and no one else around me had gotten mail yet, so I still wasn't entirely sure how it worked. But on Friday, Hedwig came swooping down onto the table and showed Harry a piece of parchment that was tied to her ankle. Hagrid had invited him to tea. It made me even more excited to send mail to my family, just to get something in return, so I decided to write my letter and send it that day.

It turned out we had double Potions with Slytherin. I hadn't had Potions yet, but I was looking forward to it because I would be able to talk to Steve. Usually, we were only able to talk to each other in the corridors or in the Library while we did homework. I was so eager that I dragged Ron and Harry to class early. Potions was held in the dungeons, nearby where Steve said the Slytherin dormitories were. Inside the classroom, the walls were lined with jars of cool things that smelled. As everyone else started coming for class, they all sat at tables in pairs. All of the Slytherins sat on one side, and all of the Gryffindors sat in another. Except for me and Steve – we sat at a table together in the back of the room. Other Slytherins and Gryffindors gave us strange looks. Did Houses really mean so much that we couldn't sit together?

When the teacher, Professor Snape, entered the room he was in a really foul mood. I quickly got the impression that he wasn't just in a foul mood, but was foul all the time. He got right down to business and took role, pausing at Harry Potter's name to make a comment that was pretty rude. Over the past week, I had noticed everyone giving special attention to Harry. Other kids would whisper and giggle about him in the halls, and people would stare whenever he was in the vicinity. I felt bad for him, but not nearly as bad as when Snape called him Hogwart's "new celebrity" in a voice that could have frozen over Hell.

He started to lecture. Not about Potions, but about how he disliked teaching stupid kids and other comments that made me absolutely hate him. I noticed he was picking on Harry especially bad, asking him questions that no one in the class probably knew, except the know-it-all girl named Hermione, who we had seen on the train, and who also had been sorted into Gryffindor. Rather than pay attention to his harsh words, I pulled out my half-finished letter to my family, and worked to finish it. As I was writing, Steve pulled a piece of parchment from his bags and wrote me a note –

_What are you writing?_

I wrote back –

**A letter to my family. Did you send anything to your mom yet?**

_No._

**I can't believe this guy. He's being such a jerk.**

_Calm down. What if he sees this?_

**He won't. He's too busy harassing Harry. What has Harry done to him?**

_It probably has more to do with Harry's fame and reputation than anything he has actually done. _

**So? He's still being an ass. Did you hear? He just took a point away from Gryffindor!**

_I'm sure there's a reason for it. _

**Why are you sticking up for him? **

_He's the Head of my House._

**So? McGonagall's Head of Gryffindor, but I sure didn't stick up for her when she assigned us all that homework.**

Snape changed the subject to potions finally, so we stopped our writing to each other so that we could take notes. The notes were pretty complicated instructions on a potion that was to cure boils. After taking the notes, we started making the potion itself. It was a lot more difficult that I would have thought – we had to weigh, crush, measure, and add things in at exactly the right moments. It was supposed to turn a specific texture, with a specific color, a specific type of smoke, and have a specific smell. Everyone was having varying degrees of success. Snape would walk around the room, his robes billowing out behind him, making him look like a vampire from the old movies. He would snap at everyone, saying that they were doing something wrong. When he got to my table, I was ready to punch him.

"Isn't this strange… Steve Leonard, working with a Gryffindor?" Snape said. "There is an odd number of Slytherins this year. Did you draw the short straw?"

"Me and Steve are friends," I replied through gritted teeth.

"I," Snape retorted.

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

"Steve _and I_, Shan. Have you never had a grammar lesson before? I'm shocked they are allowing such ignorant students into Hogwarts these days. This used to be an excellent school," Snape snarled. He peered down the length of his nose into the tray of crushed snake fangs sitting beside my cauldron. "The snake fangs are poorly crushed."

"I know grammar, Sir," I said to him, and before I stopped myself, I added, "And we weren't finished crushing the fangs when you got here."

"The Gryffindors are certainly a rude bunch this year," he hissed, "I think I'll take another point away for your mouth, Shan."

Ugh! I wanted to pick up my cauldron and pour its contents onto his head. I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs and throw my books across the room. I wanted to pound my fists into the table until it cracked. I wanted to storm out of the room, slam the door behind me, and scream curse words as I marched down the hall. But instead, I let my head fall, and said to him, "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean it that way."

"Next time maybe you'll think before you open that mouth of yours," he said, and went on to torture the other students.

After class, Harry went to meet up with Hagrid and invited us to go with him. I declined, saying I had to go the owlry and send my letter home. He and Ron left me alone, which I admit I was grateful for – I was in such a bad mood! I passed Steve in the hall, he was talking to his new friend Theodore Nott, but when he saw me he left Theodore and joined me.

"I have to send this, too," he explained, waving a short note in my face as we walked. I didn't answer, but simply nodded. I was so angry that he hadn't stood up for me during class. "Darren, don't let Snape get to you," he said quietly.

"How can I not let it get to me? You saw how vicious he was!" I snarled.

"I know this sounds stupid, but I think it's all a façade," Steve said.

"A what?" I asked.

"A façade – he's pretending to act that way. Just listen," he assured me, when he saw my expression of disbelief, "Draco Malfoy is a complete prick. The first day of classes we had a huge fight, and we both got detention. When I was alone with Snape, he was civil. In fact, he seemed pretty understanding."

"What did he say?" I inquired, now interested.

"Well, he basically said there's always someone like Malfoy to put you down. He wouldn't do anything about it, though. I think he wants to look really mean for everyone else, so that they know not to mess around with him," Steve replied.

"So you and Malfoy are still fighting?"

"No," he answered. "Snape sent me to the Headmaster. The Headmaster said that Malfoy came from a family that firmly believed only purebloods should be allowed in Hogwarts. He said most Slytherins felt that way, which is why I wasn't welcome in the House. He said not to fight Malfoy because I shouldn't blame him, but to blame his parents instead. I told him I couldn't – as long as Malfoy was treating me badly, I wasn't going to stop fighting. So he spoke to Malfoy. Malfoy teased me about running to the Headmaster for help, but hasn't spoken to me since. I think the Headmaster said something that really shook him up, maybe threatened to expel him."

"So you spoke to Dumbledore?" I asked, in awe.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I liked him a lot. He seems really loony when you first meet him, but I realized he's a brilliant man. It felt like he really cared about my problem."

We had reached the owlry and went inside. Owls were everywhere, resting on perches or circling the room. It was warmer than the rest of the castle, because there were lots of opened windows inside of it. The floor was coated in owl dung, and it smelled so bad that I wanted to cover my nose.

Athena and Strix were perched together, and immediately flew over when they saw us. I fastened the letters to Athena's leg, as Hagrid's letter had been fastened to Hedwig's. "Take this home, Athena. You remember how to get there, don't you?" I instructed her. Ron had told me a few days ago that owls knew where to deliver the letters as long as you told them who it was for. I hoped he was right, because I had not trained Athena about delivering mail at all. I walked over to the nearest window and released her.

Athena's shape became smaller and smaller as she flew towards the horizon. It was a beautiful day outside, and the sun was warm on my cheeks. Suddenly, I noticed Athena was immobile, and the sky around her was hazy, as if I was looking at a mirage.

"Steve, what's going on?" I asked, pointing towards Athena's frozen form.

Steve looked confused. "Strix, go help her!" he commanded. Strix flew from his arm and out the window, cutting through the air like a bullet. But when he neared Athena, he stopped moving, too.

"What's going on?" I repeated, gesturing wildly towards the birds that had frozen in midair.

"It's magic," Steve said, "It must be. A bird can't be still and remain airborne. Find a teacher or something, and tell us that someone is preventing us from sending letters."

For a moment, I hesitated. And in that moment I saw both birds drop from the sky and fall into the forest below. I bolted from my spot by the window, out the door, and down the stairs. I ran through corridors, my robes whipping against my legs. Every step I took sent a jolt of pain through my spine, because I was wearing bad shoes for running, and the floor was always hard stone. But I had played soccer for years, and I was not winded easily.

Who should I ask for help? Flitwick? Dumbledore? McGonagall would probably be my best bet. But unfortunately, the first teacher I ran into was none of the above.

"Stop!" bellowed a voice.

I skidded to a stop and doubled over, panting to catch my breath.

"Why are you running in the halls? Do you want me to take more points from Gryffindor?" Snape snarled.

"No, Sir," I immediately replied. "I was sending an owl home, but I think something happened. She was fine, but all of a sudden she just stopped and fell… I think someone did it on purpose, to intercept my letter."

"Don't be foolish," Snape said. "Why would anyone want some eleven year old boy's letter? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I know it sounds stupid," I said, "But why else would that happened?"

"Perhaps because you have overworked your owl," he replied, "Or else you've trained her poorly. Don't jump to conclusions. By the way, I'm feeling generous. You won't lose points for running in the hall. But if I see it happen one more time, you'll lose twenty. Do you understand?"

My face fell, and I didn't have the heart to answer him. I turned away and trudged back up the stairs, to tell Steve that our owls were doomed. Civil? Understanding? Neither of those words vaguely described Snape, and I found myself wondering if Steve knew what they meant at all.


End file.
